


The Nameless One

by Shiori_Makiba



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Folklore, Free Verse, Original Character(s), Poetry, Self-Identity, Slavery, Tatooine Slave Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 10:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15313944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiori_Makiba/pseuds/Shiori_Makiba
Summary: The child was one of the namelessA little exploration of a Skywalker ancestor.





	The Nameless One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fialleril](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fialleril/gifts).



The child was  
one of the nameless.

Being made a slave is never  
a happy story but  
the fate of the nameless  
seemed especially cruel.

Those conquered and those captured could  
at least remember who they had been.  
They could remember the names  
their parents had gifted them.  
They could remember the family  
of their birth.  
Some could even remember  
what it was like to have been free.

The nameless had none of those things.  
Those precious things had been stolen by Depur.

Depur was thief  
as well as a liar.

The child's story was typical.  
Torn from their mother's arms,  
stripped of their name and  
any possessions they had  
including their clothing,  
shipped across the stars  
naked save for their chains.

Sold upon arrival to the  
highest bidder and  
dumped into the Quarter  
until old enough to work.

Depur named the child Worm.  
A pointed reminder to the child  
that they were weak.  
They were lesser.  
They were stupid.  
They were food  
for the strong and the powerful.

The child refused to accept this.  
They did so quietly.  
For the child was not foolish enough  
to challenge Depur on the matter openly.  
At least, not yet.

They gave much thought  
to what to name themselves.  
It was important.  
Probably one of the most important choices  
they would make.

Their family, the one forged in the Quarter,  
the one made by naming and surviving  
rather than blood, offered suggestions.  
All of them were good, strong names.  
Anyone would be proud to bear  
one of those names.

But none of them felt  
quite right to the child.

Wait then, Grandmother had advised.  
Better a late name than an ill-fitting one.  
Ar-Amu will show you the way.

So the child waited.  
They grew into adulthood.  
They toiled for Depur.  
They learned secrets.  
And they listened to stories.

The child loved stories.  
All stories.  
Even the sad ones.  
But their special favorites were those  
of Ekkereth the Skywalker.

They loved the way Ekkereth  
could change their form.  
Ekkereth could be  
whatever they chose to be.

They loved the way Ekkereth  
could always fool the Depur.  
No matter how cunning and powerful,  
Depur always lose to Ekkereth.

They loved the way Ekkereth would  
sacrifice themselves to give the slaves hope,  
to help them break their chains,  
to lead them to their freedom.

They loved how Ekkereth never  
gave up no matter how bleak the situation was.  
Ekkereth always found a way.

It was after listening to another story  
of Ekkereth tricking Depur  
that the child realized  
what their name should be.

They named themselves  
Tariku Skywalker.

Tariku for the little but fierce birds,  
travelers of the desert sands,  
one of Ekkereth's favorite forms.

Skywalker for the shape-changer themselves.  
A signal to all who could read the warning  
the child was not only aware of their own wings  
but intended to remind the other slaves of their own.

Their wings might now be shackled.  
But one day, those chains could be broken.  
One day, they would all fly together.  
One day, they would all dance  
across the skies with Ekkereth  
and share in their laughter.

Tariku took their namesake's lessons  
to heart.  
Many said that Ekkereth themselves  
gave Tariku their blessing.  
Certainly they became  
skilled at deceiving the Depur.

At breaking others' chains  
in ways large and small.  
By telling the stories  
that gave Tariku their hope.  
By singing the songs  
that told them where to run.

At hiding their defiance  
in plain sight,  
right under the Depur's nose.  
Depur never saw Tariku Skywalker  
in their obedient, little Worm.

At keeping their secrets  
even in the face of death.  
At giving hope  
when all seemed lost.

It is said that Tariku never actually died.  
That one day they simply turned into a bird  
and joined their namesake in the skies.

The children of Tariku  
kept the name.  
Kept the memory.  
Kept the hope that one day,  
they would walk across the skies with Ekkerth.

No masters.  
Just them, the sky, and the rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Fialleril's meta and headcanon.


End file.
